I Was Just Another Lonely Mountain
by felis snape
Summary: A boy who suffers from loneliness, and has only his dreams to cling on to...


Hey, the characters belong to Rowling, I'm just attempting  something stupid with them because I have nothing else to do.

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I Was Just Another Lonely Mountain

It was already dusk, the sun had steadily made it's way down to where the skies met those forgotten lonely mountains, shinning a pale mixture of colours, blurring the line of dark and light. Lonely mountains, for they were there, with only themselves and no other. They resembled me, in a way; I might be always surrounded by people but, never the same kind as me. Never someone I could trust. 

Never someone that believed could trust me.

Anyway, I was walking, once again alone, through those strange mountains I knew so well. As always, I was thinking, but at the same time, my thoughts were unusual. The usual unusual thoughts, the ones I hated the most.

I would, under normal circumstances walk to that shadowed place to think about troubles, things that bothered me, my future, be it far or frightenly near. I'd stay there for seconds sometimes – sometimes for hours - thinking about my father, how I hated and loved him so much. I hated his choices - his death-eater being - but really, no one knew him like I did. The way I hated his actions, his blindness for Voldemort, the way his existence alone taught me that love and hate could be painfully together in one….He had been there for me when I though the whole world would turn their backs, that, was one thing he managed to do, even though his father hadn't done it, which was why I thought he joined Voldemort.

I really did hate the way he though I should follow on his footsteps, but I knew I couldn't say no. I couldn't fail him, let him down on all he had been for me. But this would later be explained to me, by the one who I stopped calling an enemy that day. The one I loved, I should destroy.

"Draco! Draco! come home now, dinner is almost ready and your father is to arrive any moment now." The empty blue package turned into a floating mass of burning green flames, flickering before my eyes, as soon as my mother's voice had finished yelling, beckoning me to go back, warning me it was time to pretend I was in line. I was in line, but my mind had passed this line for a long time, blurred it, much like the setting sun and the darkness. He was back now, or he would be back at any minute. And so was the night. The darkness of the night.

Gloomily, my light stride made it's way back to the house that now, after sixteen years had passed, I still felt unable to call home. It was only home to fears, rules and lies, not any other thing a normal home would posses. In my tongue, it was 'the Manor', the house. I guess it had once possessed love, but it was gone and obviously, wouldn't be even half the much love there was at the Weasley's. I often would rage at the red heads, but only because I was jealous, the Weasley's, although poor and toyed with survived every year with growing love. It was ironic the way they could love their poor ugly house, while I felt nothing for that rich Manor. Even Potter had love, without his parents he still managed to get more love than me. He had friends, real friends, and now, he had even more love, a love he had from me, and I probably would never get back from him. Yes, that day, Potter was in my mind, and as I walked back home I shoved him out of my fantasies, but I knew his absence in me would only last until nighttime. At night he'd come back, and pleasantly haunt me, images that for me would never be, after all, nothing good ever happened to Draco Malfoy.

*~*~*~*~*

_The sun, already long fallen from the noon, was shinning in a windy sky. The pent waters spread out into a long oval lake, pale Nen Hithoel, fenced by steep grey hills whose sides were clad with trees, cold, gleaming in the sunlight. _

So familiar…

He closed the book, putting it aside, after carefully marking the page he was in. He then shifted his sitting position, and laid down on the comfort of the soft satin bed sheets, the warmth of the cushions, in his stomach the pleasant feel of fullness. As soon as he did that, the magical light of the chamber started to dim, till it could no longer be called a source of light.  A soft nock was heard on the oaken door, and he turned from observing the moon to look at the door. His mother, the beautiful Narcissa, came in. The moonlight shone and twinkled on her silvery blonde hair, the long silken nightdress she wore sweeping gracefully over the floor as she walked in light paces through the room the room, and sat on the windowsill. She looked like an angel, the silhouette of her thin body cut against the midnight blue sky, as her silvery hair reflected the pale moonlight, shining like a silver aura. A beautiful angel he had for a mother.

"Tired, mon amour?" Her voice sang, like heaven's bells. He stayed for a moment contemplating the sound of it, before answering her.

"Oui, mama. Je suis fatigue…." And it was true, he was really tired. Tired of having to endure his father. The days had started to seem tiresome when he came back, him having to pretend to be back home. She was the only thing that made him survive, the only person that he knew he could trust. A dream, his mother was. The Angel that stood singing on the slope of the Lonely Mountain.

"Draco, dear, I could tell you got nervous when your father mentioned your initiation as Death Eater," she started, looking in his direction through the darkness. Her eyes caught a glimpse of the moonlight and shone emerald before being covered by the darkness again. That brief moment in which it had shown was enough for him to see concern in them.

"Don't worry, mama. I'm fine," he lied hesitatingly. It had some trace of reality in it. He was always fine when near her. But not in the sense she was asking him. If only he could tell her about his feelings – the love, the hatred, the memories, the dreams… It wasn't about trust – he trusted Narcissa more than anyone, almost as much as he loved her. But he didn't want to hurt her crystal heart, to see sadness possessing her. He just wouldn't bear that – he'd rather die than hurt his mother.

"You're not, pettit. I'm can see it in your eyes," She whispered so softly it sounded like the whisper of the stars. She continued, this time with more confidence. "I can see it…"

"Mama…" There was nothing he could say. To lie again would be beyond the strength he had to deceive his mother. To tell the truth would mean to take the risk to hurt her. There were no more words now. She knew what was going on his head – why he wouldn't speak. She knew he didn't want to hurt her. And he knew she knew. There were no more words. Apart from one. "No."

Narcissa remained silent. There was now an unspoken agreement between them that they should only speak again on the following day. It had been like this between them always – they understood each other perfectly well, like lovers, twin souls. Like no one would ever understand them.

"Very well.  Sweet dreams my darling."  She said, in an affectionate tone.

"I have them already."  He answered in a whisper and she smiled, then bent to kiss his forehead and pulled the sheets over him protectively. "I love you."  Another sweet smile.

*~*~*~*~*

I open my eyes, to find a pair of emerald green ones locked to them, only one breath away from my own. I can't see the face of the eyes owner – it is like a long forgotten memory, so distinct and familiar and yet blurred by the fog of time.

I lift my hand to touch the face but I feel like there is something blocking the contact – a very strong barrier. Those eyes continue to hold my gaze as if they are the only contact between the other and me. Those eyes… maybe…

"Mama?"

Suddenly the blur is gone and I can see my mother standing before me, smiling. Her hand grips my own firmly, pressing the soft skin against the palm of my hand. And then she whispered one word.

"Love." 

"I do!" 

"Love me…" and then her face was a blur again, her hand disappeared from my touch, and there is nothing but mists… No, there is, her eyes are still there… "I love him mama, I'm so sorry!" I cried into the mists, talking to her eyes, even though I knew eyes couldn't hear.

"Love me?" And then he emerged from the mists. He came to me, as he would do every night in these dreams, and hugged me. His grip was strong, yes so strong, but it seemed a caress, it made me want to hug him tighter. Yes kill me, crush my lungs, let me die in your arms, die with honour, before I taint my name with Voldemort…

 His lips connected to mine, and I felt his warm tongue, sliding into my mouth, caressing me sweetly, biting into my flesh, drawing blood…It was perfect, an ecstasy…His fingers searched for my flesh, digging under my clothes, ripping it all of, tearing, yes tearing, both skin and cloth…

And then he started to fade, his arms and legs become mists again, fading.

"I'll wait for you! I will remain strong, and wait for you to come back!"

And I was again in those lonely mountains; I was one of them, saying my silent prayers, wishing for that something I never had. And knowing that if I ever had what I wanted, there would be a high price to pay for it – I would wake up.


End file.
